I’ve been invited to an ’80s party. While I’m looking forward to the music and pop culture references, I find myself dreading the costume.
I now know how people who grew up in the ’60s felt in the ’80s. You live through a decade’s fashion atrocities, then you have to put up with the whippersnappers making fun of them or, perish the thought, reviving them.
I saw girls in legwarmers last year, and they were nowhere near an ’80s party. Legwarmers are as hideous now as they were before.
Folks who came of age in the ’60s have seen bellbottoms make a rebound or two. Tube tops, last seen in the ’70s and ’80s, have experienced an unfortunate resurgence the past few years. Ladies, please. Mind your squishy parts.
Do I miss anything about ’80s fashion? I still love Swatches. Although they’re not as widely available as they were when I was a teenager, they’re still colorful, fun and quirky. I tend to gravitate toward Swatch stores when I’m vacationing, and thus have several watches that are inappropriate for many office settings and social affairs. One features a monkey. I may be picky, but I also might be kind of immature.
I miss wearing dozens of rubber or silver bracelets at once. I’m kind of sorry sometimes that I don’t have much occasion to wear two earrings in one ear.
In short, I guess miss the jewelry of the ’80s. You can have the leggings, parachute pants and slouchy boots.
Maybe I’ll go as a Ghostbuster. All the better to keep those damn kids off my lawn.
Did you miss anything?
Benetton.
Bandannas tied around pant legs.
The 100-zipper jacket.
The side pony tail.
Bubbalicious.
Neon tights.
Big hair.
Gaudy costume jewelry.
Rolled jeans.
Oversized sweaters.
Skin-tight, horizontally-stripped t-shirts.
I love: “I may be picky, but I also might be kind of immature.”
Those rolled jeans better be stonewashed or acid washed, and they better have holes in them. Not holes in the knees, mind you. That would mean you wore holes in them. No, they should have holes strategically created in them.
I got away with tearing holes in one pair of jeans. Just one. My mom did not suffer foolish fashion trends.